Brotherhood Rising
by TheCareBear
Summary: After ten years, a ghost slips back into Arthur Maxson's life much to his frustration and delight. Slowburn F!LW x Maxson
1. Ghost

**I own Gwen.**

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November 5th, 2287

Arthur Maxson stands tall as he stares out the window of the Prydwen. Below his brothers and sisters in arms begin their sweep through the Boston Airport, securing the facility for the Brotherhood of Steel. They had followed the strange energy readings in an attempt to continue their lofty goal. The trip had been quiet and uneventful. However, the peace would not last. Much like the distant storm brewing on the horizon, the winds of change will blow and bring about a terrible effect.

But these quiet musings are soon interrupted with the gentle cough and a stuttered voice. "E-Elder," a scribe called, "A wo-woman is here for y-you."

At this Maxson turns around, only to see a ghost standing behind the scribe. Her shortly cropped dark hair hangs longer on one side with the other shaved down to stubble. Various scars dance across her sun-kissed skin, with a deep one stretching from her ear to mouth. She looks up at him, her blue eyes piercing him, sticking him where he stands. She smiles and steps around the scribe, striding towards the Elder.

Stopping before the tall man, her smile grows as she stands on the tips of her toes to lightly ruffle Maxson's hair. At her touch, Arthur lets out a content sigh, shutting his eyes briefly. "It's good to see you again, Arthur," she says in a soft tone.

"You're late, Sentinel," he says after a moment. "You're ten years late reporting in for duty."

She smirks and gives him a wry look. "I've been a little busy."

"A little busy?!" He explodes with anger. Her eyes go wide and she stands up a little straighter was a bemused smile widens on her face. "When the Capitol Building collapsed, we thought you were dead. Damn it, Gwen, we had a funeral for you!" He spins away from her, pacing in a small, tight circle. "I mourned your loss; we all did." He stops pacing and glares at her. "And here you are, coming back like nothing happened, still wearing that stupid I-don't-give-a-shit smile."

"Do you want an award, Arthur?" Gwen says, still smirking at the raging Brotherhood leader. "A gold star for being such a good boy and crying over some waster?" All at once her smirk drops and a deadly serious look enters her eye. "War is dangerous, Maxson. Lives are lost in war. Friends are killed. Soldiers return maimed or dead. And even I, mutated into a fucking killing machine, would die in war." Silence engulfs them as even the Knights look on in interest. Maxson tears his eyes from her, choosing to stare at the metal floor, rather than into her eyes. He may be taller than her, he may be leaner and stronger, he may be the leader of the Brotherhood, but when Gwen as angry, she made him feel like he was a little boy playing at being a man.

Quietly, Gwen continued. "You mourn and you take that sadness and turn it into something productive. You do not have a pity party. You don't carry it with you for ten years, Maxson. You don't take it out on your men because you feel like shit, like you took it personally. Newsflash, the world does not revolve around you as much as your yes men tell you." With that she motions around her to all the Knights, the ship, and the Brotherhood below. "You may be older, Maxson, but you've still got a lot of growing up to do."

Maxson seethes with rage inside. How dare she do that! He is the Elder! He is the one that gets to rant and rave! But even as he rages away, a part of him agrees with her. He has been acting like an ass. And he did take her 'death' the hardest after Sarah. But even Sarah used it as a measure to push forward. To push harder and faster against the Enclave. She accomplished something while he cried and moped and did nothing.

So, when confronted with this he turns his back to Gwen and stares out the window. But with his back turned, he doesn't notice the slow smile or the quick nod from her. He only hears the low chuckle and the clearing of her throat. "I was out west, helping the Western Brotherhood make up with the NCR. The trip there and back took most of my time. I could tell you some stories over a drink sometime, Arthur." A beat. "Unless you'll have me scrub the latrines after my scolding of you."

A chuckle escapes from Maxson and he lets his shoulders drop as he turns back around to face her. "No. I won't have you scrub the latrines. You're too valuable for that. As for the scolding," he sighs and looks down for a moment before looking up into her eyes, even as the tips of his ears burn from embarrassment. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Gwen reaches up and smoothes down his hair from where she ruffled it. "Two things. Of course I'm right," she says half sarcastically with earns a small smirk from Maxson. "And don't say sorry to me. Say it to your men and show it through your actions. I'm only here to make you think, Arthur. And seeing you apologize for past bad behavior is showing that you get it. That's 80% of the battle right there. And I know you, Arthur. You don't say sorry for the sake of saying it. You mean it and you'll make good on it." A pause. "Unless you've changed drastically in the ten odd years I've been gone. If that's the case, I'll pull your pants down and spank you in front of your soldiers."

With the image that comes to mind, Maxson laughs loudly. It's an infectious thing that soon has Gwen laughing alongside him and even the Knights standing guard chuckle and stifle their laughs. After a moment it quiets again on the main deck, but this is a comfortable silence rather than a stifling one. Gwen looks him up and down and smiles, nodding her head. "We good?" She asks, offering him a fist to bump.

He bumps his fist with her and then grabs her wrist, pulling her closer to him. He ignores the wide eyed shocked expression and stares at her intently. "You are not dying on my watch. Not again. Clear?"

"What, you gonna kill me if I die on you, Arthur?" She asks sarcastically, having recovered from her shock at the forcefulness of Maxson.

"No," he grounds out. "It'll be you getting the spanking, not me." He means it jokingly, but with the whispered voice, the overbearing presence of him, his hand on her wrist and his breath in her ear, causes a blush to paint her cheeks as a naughty image flashes through her mind. She rolls her eyes skyward, and mutters under her breath before turning back to him with a smirk, the blush lingering on her face.

To his credit, Maxson pulls back and lets her go quickly as if he touched something too hot. Before he can apologize for a misunderstanding—even though a part of him wishes not to—she salutes him before marching out of the main deck. He watches her go, his mind swimming with new thoughts and strange ideas. Behind him, there is a flash and a clap of thunder as the storm picks up in earnest. Strange times have come to the commonwealth and the Brotherhood, but even stranger times for Maxson and the ghost of his past.


	2. Storms

**I own Gwen**

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November 8th, 2287

Gwen stood outside underneath the canopy of the terminal. Around her Brotherhood soldiers rush to and fro, carrying crates and computers, cleaning out the cobwebs, and setting up a primitive defensive perimeter. She watched them with mild interest as she leaned up against her restored bike, her arms crossed in front of her and a small smile playing at her lips. It was easy to hide amongst the Brotherhood. Even though many gawked, many more simply nodded and gave her a pat on the shoulder. Many things had changed, but even so it felt like home. It's a feeling she hasn't felt in a while. The thought of home causes a dark shadow to cloud her mind. Deep feelings of regret and sorrow pass over her as the images of 101 and James flash into her head. And all at once, it ends as a pair of power armored feet stomp next to her.

"Well, well. Lazy as ever," a familiar voice drawls.

She casts a smirk over to the towering engineer. "Ingram. Nice to see ya again."

"I won't even bother asking how you are alive. Knowing you, I won't get a straight answer anyway."

Gwen places a hand on her chest in mock hurt. "Ingram, I'm hurt. You know I would never lie to you."

Proctor Ingram purses her lips and gives the Lone Wanderer a skeptical look. "Right. So, how are you still alive? The sun may heal you, but I doubt you could survive that."

"Alien mother ship beamed me up," Gwen says matter-of-factly with a firm nod of her head.

The engineer rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Don't wanna tell, that's fine. What are you doing here then?"

"I can't come visit my favorite engineer on a whim?" She asks innocently, batting her eyelashes.

"With you, Gwen, nothing is just on a whim. You always have some motive or interest." Ingram settles on her back leg, sizing up the Lone Wanderer.

Gwen doesn't get to answer as a Brotherhood Knight calls out in alarm as ghouls begin to swarm out of an apartment close to the airport. Without waiting, Gwen's laser rifle is in her hands and her legs are carrying her towards the battle. Though she may be tiny outside of her power armor, she is fearsome nonetheless. "Alright, Knights," she bellows out and begins to order the soldiers around. "I want four of you on either side, flanking this door." She motions to the makeshift opening before her. "Paladins, take point up top for over watch. Snipers, I want you at the towers on the corners."

The soldiers salute her and carry out her orders. Once they are in place, Gwen strides out of the open door. "Snipers," she calls out, "Pick your targets. On my mark." She grips her rifle, casting a glance up and down the line of soldiers. They nod briefly at her, raising their own weapons to an alert stance. "Fire!" The snipers let loose their volley, cutting down several ghouls. The remaining snap their heads towards the sound, screaming and charging. The snipers fire again, cutting down a few more, but the horde continues its charge. "Paladins!" Gwen yells and they respond with heavy fire. Miniguns, assault rifles, and laser guns cut into the horde, slicing them in twain. The remaining continues their charge. "Knights!" The last line of soldiers lift their weapons in synchronized order, firing into the horde.

Gwen, fires her rifle at several fast approaching ghouls before holstering it and pulling her machetes from her side. Twirling the blades in her hands, she steps forward and slices through the head of a ghoul. "Melee, Knights! Conserve your ammo!" At her word, the Knights rifles are replaced by daggers, swords, and even their own fists. Some Knights pound the ghouls into paste. Others shove the ghouls back into the firing sight of the Paladins and snipers. Gwen prefers to cut down the ghouls as they approach, slicing deep and without mercy.

After several grueling minutes, the battle ends in a Brotherhood victory. The Knights cheer as the last ghoul falls. Laughing, Gwen sheathes her blades. "Alright, ya'll check for any damage, and then get the initiates out here to clean up this mess." The soldiers move to carry out her orders again. Gwen crosses back to Ingram, the peaking sun healing her where it lands, but still misses a nasty wound across her forehead. Wiping her brow, she smears sweat and blood across her skin and into her dark hair. "Shit," she mumbles. She strides back to her bike, to her medical kit and the bandages held within, but again, someone interrupts her.

"Sentinel!" Maxson calls, his strong hand moving to grip her bicep and keep her steady.

"Arthur," she says sweetly. "Mind letting go? I do have bandages, so you can keep your healing glares for another day."

He lets her go at her word, but goes to her bike and pulls out her bag. He ruffles through it, before finding the medical kit. Opening the box, he pulls out the antiseptic and gauze. "You might want to sit, Gwen. This will sting."

"I doubt it, Arthur. Losing the hand was worse." She wiggles her left fingers at Maxson, the mechanical digits moving fluidly. She reaches for the bottle, but Maxson holds it high over his head. "Give it back!"

"Then sit down, Sentinel. That's an order."

Begrudgingly, she sits down on a rotting bench. "Ass," she mumbles under her breath.

"What was that?" Maxson asks with an eyebrow raised.

Gwen merely smiles at the Elder. "Nothing!"

Narrowing his eyes, Maxson approaches the sitting sentinel. As he daps the gauze with the antiseptic he thinks back on the first time he met her. He was only a child when she came into his life. She was still a child herself, thrust into the dangerous wasteland and still reeling from the death of her father. Elder Lyons was slow to trust, but he soon adopted Gwen into his family and she became a permanent fixture at the Citadel.

While young Arthur only had eyes for Sarah, he still couldn't deny the stirring of primordial feelings for the wasteland beauty. Where Sarah was rigid and structured, Gwen was-and still is-this loose force of nature, wild and free. Even now, ten years later, he can't deny her infectious nature, how she could make him become...weak. She was his sister, not by blood but by choice. And more than that, she deserves someone more like her.

"Hey," Gwen says, waving her hand in Arthur's face. She stands now, close to the Elder with an amused look on her face. "Earth to Arthur."

Blinking out of his thoughts, Maxson looks down at her, his eyes darting to her lips and back to her face. The wound stares angrily at him, a constant reminder of what he must do. "I told you to sit," he scowls.

Gwen smirks. "And you were supposed to patching this up, not spacing out." She goes to grab the gauze soaked with antiseptic just as Maxson pulls his hand out of the way, causing her to tumble into him. Instinctively his hand goes to her hip and she lays her hand on his arm. He stares into her eyes, drinking in her form. A blush grows on her face as she looks up at him, blinking slowly with her long lashes. His breath catches, so focused on Gwen, that he doesn't notice her hand grabbing the gauze. She pushes off him and twirls the gauze triumphantly.

"Ha! You snooze you lose, Maxson!" She grins as she places the guaze on her forehead, grimacing slightly due to the burning.

Quickly recovering, Arthur crosses his arms over his broad chest. "I should have known you'd do something sly, sentinel." He huffs. "It seems you haven't changed."

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it." She quips as she stalks away towards her bike. She mounts it in one smooth motion before turning back to Maxson and giving him a smart ass saltue. She revves the engine before riding out of the airport, leaving a rigid and slightly confused Elder behind.


End file.
